


Never Was

by Redvanmom



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Secret Identity Fail, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-06 13:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20507801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redvanmom/pseuds/Redvanmom
Summary: “Seriously?” The man asked, raising an eyebrow and whipping off his sunglasses, “You don’t know who I am?” the man stepped closer and Peter stepped back. He wasn’t any bigger than Peter and maybe only a smidge taller, but for some reason, he still felt intimidated by him.“Uh …” Peter raised his hands in a shrug, “Should I?““Oh my God, really? You don’t know who Tony Stark is? Billionaire, philanthropist … Ironman? Ringing any bells?”“Iron what?”>>>>>Peter senses that something is missing in his world, he just doesn't know what it is. Thankfully, he's got someone to help him discover it.





	Never Was

**Author's Note:**

> So this started out as what was going to be just a little drabble on Spider-Man possibly leaving the MCU, and what it would be like for Spider-Man to suddenly be in a world without the Avengers and some of the characters that Marvel owns, but then it grew and grew and then it was a full-blown story. It turned out to even be almost of a fix-it fic at the end and I think it leaves room for more later on, but not until I've finished my other WIP.
> 
> This is not beta-read and I edit for shit, so it is what it is, but if you notice any glaring mistakes, please don't hesitate to let me know so I can fix them.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!!!!
> 
> :)

**Never Was**

Peter was many things:

A nephew

A student

A teenager

A mutated spider-themed superhero

And now he was pretty sure he would be adding mental patient to that list pretty soon.

To say that he was having a weird day was selling it short and it was just getting worse with each passing minute.

His morning started normally. He had woken a little late, but not so late that he couldn't grab a banana and wave his aunt goodbye as he ran out the door. He caught the train, walked the two blocks from its stop to the school and then jogged up the stairs to the entrance, but once he stepped inside, he had a strange feeling wash over him.

Oddly enough, it was the mural at the end of the hall that first brought it about. It wasn't like déjà vu or his spider-sense, it was something he couldn't really put a finger on. It was like he was missing something or that something had been removed from it, but wasn't sure what. It was the same mural he passed everyday without notice, the one with Einstein and the space shuttle, but as he suddenly stops to look at it, something strikes him as wrong. Like it's missing things, but what he doesn't know.

He doesn't give it much more of a thought because in the next second, he senses a body coming right for him. Peter does nothing to stop himself from being ‘accidentally' shoved into the nearest locker as Flash chuckled and said, “Whoops! You're so small I didn't see ya there, Parker'

The other boy sneered at him as he walked away and Peter is struck again by a strange feeling of dissonance. Had flash always been that tall and muscular? And that letterman's jacket he wore didn't seem right either even though Peter swore he wore the damn thing all of the time. For some odd reason, Peter kept picturing him wearing a polyester yellow blazer like the one the mathletes, but the too cool for school jock would never be caught dead in anything so nerdy.

Peter shook his head and tried to shove the weird feelings aside and for most of the morning he was pretty successful.

But then lunch came.

Sitting by himself, as always, Peter bit into his sandwich and chewed mechanically without really tasting it. He felt inexplicably lonely all of the sudden, but he really didn't know why.

He had never had very many friends, and none since he entered high school, so he was pretty used to eating alone.

All this had been by choice.

Having friends complicated things and as Spider-man, he made enemies, some of whom would have no qualms with using any friends he may make against him, so he kept people from really getting to know him any deeper than on a surface level. He was still a friendly guy and would always be nice to others, but wasn't about to make anyone his BFF. He wouldn't see anyone he considered a friend get hurt because of him.

It was better to be lonesome than have that happen.

Yet still, a wave of weirdness had come over him again and he felt like there was a missing something he could not explain, that the chair beside him wasn't supposed to be empty.

_Can I be your guy in the chair?_

Peter startled at the voice that popped into his head. It had come out nowhere like a memory, but it couldn't have been. He didn't know anyone who would ask him something that was so random. He didn't even know what it meant, but something about it made him feel a little sad for not getting it.

Hoping that he hadn't just suffered some kind of auditory hallucination, Peter decided that he really wasn't hungry and that he'd rather spend the rest of his lunch hour holed up in the library where it was quieter and he could hopefully forget any of the strange feelings he had been having that day.

Thankfully, the library was mostly deserted when he arrived and finding his favorite corner table empty was a blessing he would happily take. He slid into a seat and thought about putting his head down for a brief 10 minute power nap when another boy, some freshman whose names escaped him, took a seat at the table next to him.

Peter had to literally bite back a groan as his quiet zone of privacy was invaded. The kid didn't seem to notice or care that Peter had obviously chosen this table in order to seek solitude and he wad really quite annoyed at him even though he had just as much right to sit where he wanted as Peter.

Even so … rude.

Peter was about to get up and find a different table when his eyes caught sight of the paperback book the other kid had just pulled out of his backpack and started to read.

It was _The Black Dahlia_ by James Ellroy.

Peter saw flashes in his mind's eye of a broken, black glass pendant dangling from a chain around the neck of a girl with curly hair. Her face was blurred and obscured, but she felt familiar somehow.

He gasped a little and shook his head to wipe the image away. He didn't know who the girl was and even worse, he didn't know why imagining her had brought up some powerful feelings of longing and desire.

How can he be pining for a girl he hadn't met or might not even exist? He was probably just imagining her and chances were starting to look pretty good that Peter was losing it and that scared him more than any fight with any criminal ever had.

Peter got up abruptly and spent the rest of his lunch period sitting fully clothed on a toilet in the boys bathroom trying very hard not to freak out.

…..

The rest of the school day was torture.

He had more of those weird memory but not his memory flashes.

In history, Mr. Coats mentioned the Roswell crash in New Mexico and suddenly Peter was seeing a strange alien looking lady with big black eyes and antennae and he could hear himself yelling at her to not lay her eggs in him.

Then in Physics, they had to watch a video on aerodynamics and in one segment some kids were tossing a Frisbee back and forth to demonstrate lift. Peter’s mind flashed to a large metal shield with the American flag on it zinging around at impossible speeds.

_That thing does not obey the laws of physics at all_. He heard himself say, but to whom and why he didn't know.

Finally at 3:30, the bell rang and school was dismissed. Peter didn't hesitate to leave and he might have been the first student out the door.

He just wanted to forget about this day and about the fact that he might be losing his mind. He needed to be Spider-man is what he thought. A few hours of swinging around town would fix him up like a hard reset on a malfunctioning computer and then everything would be back to normal afterward.

He wasn’t losing it. He couldn’t. He was just stressed that was all.

Once he was home, Peter ran to his room, shut the door and locked it behind him. His aunt wasn’t home, but he wasn’t about to take the chance of her walking in on him changing into his Spider-man suit.

Again, Peter had a flash. In this one, he was wearing a suit similar to his own, but different … it was way nicer and definitely not homemade like his own. A feeling of pride had engulfed the Peter in his mind’s eye, but in the next second, the unmistakable voice of his aunt exclaiming a profanity as she walked in on him wiped it all away.

This vision was strong and Peter had to grasp a hold of his bed post to keep from falling over. Jeez … what the hell?

It’s not real, he told himself. Aunt May doesn’t know and she never will. 

Talking himself out of a panic attack, Peter sat on his bed and dropped his head between his knees, taking slow controlled breaths. His aunt finding out about his Spider-Man alter-ego was perhaps one of his greatest fear and seeing it all play out in his mind was giving his heart palpitations.

Peter got the sense that she was suspicious that he was up to something and she asked repeatedly for him to open up and let her in on his secrets and he really wanted to explain it all to her so badly, to let her know how lonely it was sometimes to have powers he couldn’t tell anyone about, or the mistakes he had made, but he just couldn’t.

He couldn’t let her know he was Spider-man. She’d never understand and she might make him quit.

Besides, he couldn’t really turn to her with his Spider-Man issues anyway. She didn’t have powers or fight crime so she wasn’t exactly equipped to mentor him through any of this. Really, there wasn’t anyone he could talk to about being a superhero. It probably would have been nice to have someone who did understand what it was like to have powers or who could show him the ropes of super-heroing, but it was just him. He had to figure out how to be Spider-Man on his own.

_Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and definitely don’t do anything I would do. There’s a little grey area where you operate._

Peter grabbed his head as an intrusive male voice entered his mind. Again, he didn’t know who it was or why it was popping into his brain without permission.

God, he had to get out or he was really gonna lose it.

Peter quickly changed into his suit and slid out his window, leaving it open just a crack so he could easily get back in again. He crawled up the side of his building and onto the roof where he took a moment to check his webshooters and stretch a little before aiming his wrist at the nearest building, his finger just touching the trigger of the webshooter.

“Lordy, kid. What the hell are you wearing?” a man’s voice sounded from behind a very surprised Peter, who jumped nearly a foot in the air. There hadn’t been anybody there two seconds ago and he hadn’t sensed their presence at all. “I give you two multi-million dollar supersuits and this is the one you choose to wear in your fantasy land?”

Peter whirled and came face to face with a man with dark hair tinged with grey at his temples. He wore an AC/DC t-shirt under a blue blazer, dark skinny jeans and a pair of shoes that probably cost more than three month’s rent to his and May’s apartment. On his face was an immaculately groomed goatee and weird orange-tinted sunglasses that kinda looked like something Elton John would have worn back in the 70’s.

Peter gaped at the man who was looking around the rooftop with an air of nonchalance and self-assuredness that Peter could only hope to ever achieve.

“Who the … where did you …?” Peter stammered as he looked around the rooftop, the door to which he knew had been locked for ages. How did this guy even get up there so fast? Where did he even come from?

“Wow … I think this might actually be the first time you’ve ever been at a loss for words,” the man said with a sly grin. “I guess this means you musta missed me.”

Peter shook his head, confused not being a word that was not strong enough to describe his current state, “Who are you? Where in the heck did you come from?”

“Seriously?” The man asked, raising an eyebrow and whipping off his sunglasses, “You don’t know who I am?” the man stepped closer and Peter stepped back. He wasn’t any bigger than Peter and maybe only a smidge taller, but for some reason, he felt intimidated by him.

“Uh …” Peter raised his hands in a shrug, “Should I?“

“Oh my God, really? You don’t know who Tony Stark is? Billionaire, philanthropist … _Ironman_? Ringing any bells?”

“Iron what?”

“Iron Man," the man annumciated slowly, "You know ... I wear a suit of armor that flies and I beat up bad guys with it.”

Peter had to admit to himself that the guy’s voice sounded a lot like the one that had popped into his brain unbidden a few minutes ago, but he shook his head, “Look, I don’t wanna be rude here or anything, but I’ve never heard of you.”

The guy, Tony Stank, or whatever, pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, muttering, “So, let me get this straight. You get sucked into a fantasy where it’s supposed to be so good that you’d never want to leave and you don’t have me in your world? I gotta tell ya, kid … that hurts. That really, really hurts.”

Peter began to think that maybe it wasn’t him who was going crazy but this guy. It was probably a better idea to leave and let the lunatic keep the rooftop to himself, “Hey man, look, I’m sorry, but I really don’t have time to chat. See, I’m kinda in the middle of, ya know, doing Spider-Man stuff, so … yeah. It was nice meeting you and all, but , yeah. Gotta go.”

Peter turned and was again about to shoot a web and swing away when man called out, “Pete, wait!”

Freezing to his spot, Peter felt a numb wash of fear start from the top of his head and race to his toes. This guy knew his name! This random weirdo in expensive Italian loafers who had come out of the blue knew who he was.

_Shit … shit, shit, shit, shit, shit …_

He had been so careful. How did this happen?

Peter turned slowly around and faced the man again with dread pooling in his stomach. “How do you –”

“Know your name?” the guy asks, his eyes penetrating, but not malicious. “Know that you and you aunt live three floors down? That you go to Mid-Town High and are almost 17 years old and still play with Legos? That even though you are a genius, it took you not once, not twice, but three times for you to pass your driver’s test?”

Feeling his mouth drop open, Peter was immensely glad for the mask covering the shock that had to be registering on his face.

“I know your name, Peter Benjamin Parker, because I know you.” Tony, now only a foot away, said while poking him in the middle of the spider symbol in his chest, “And you know me. You’re just having a hard time remembering that.”

Peter swallowed hard. This guy not only knew his name, but he knew about May and where they lived.

It felt like all of the moisture had dried up in his mouth, but he squeaked out a rapidly tumbled out response, “I swear, I honestly don’t remember you, but if I did something wrong against you, I’m sorry. But if your problem is with me, then let's keep it between us and leave my aunt out of this. She has nothing to do with any of my Spider-man stuff, I swear –”

The eye roll Tony made was almost audible, “Good lord, kid.”

“Please. Just leave her alone.”

“I promise you I would never dream of harming a hair on your unnaturally hot aunt’s head.”

A flash struck Peter, strong and hard, and Tony’s voice came unwanted nto his head and suddenly in Peter's mind, he was sitting in a car next to Tony, both of them looking into a cell phone camera,

_Hey, May! How ya doing? What are you wearing? Something skimpy, I hope?_

Tony’s laugher echoed in his skull as Peter came back to reality and swayed in his feet, knees buckling. Two hands grabbed him and kept him upright, “Whoa, whoa, hey … what’s going on?” Tony asked.

Peter groaned, dizzy. He felt himself being lowered to the floor.

“Alright, let’s get you sitting, yeah?”

Shaking his head once he was seated, Peter closed his eyes until he felt the light-headedness pass. The flashes he had had before hadn’t left him feeling so wobbly, so why would they now? Was it because of Tony?

Was he somehow causing this?

But then again, the vision he just had showed him that maybe he and this Tony guy had known each other, at least well enough for the older man to shoot a video with him and comment on his aunt’s looks.

Which, by the way, was pretty gross.

But none of this made sense. Peter didn’t have any other memories of Tony and up until today, he hadn’t had flashes either. He had a feeling in his gut that he could trust Tony, but that part warred with evidence supplied by his mind. He didn’t know Tony and for all that he knew this was all some kind of elaborate trick. So the most important question he had was were these flashes real, or was Tony manipulating his mind somehow?

He supposed it could be possible of for someone to have psychic abilities that were strong enough to mess with people’s memories or make them see things. After all, Peter himself thought that his spider-sense might be some kind of low-volume ESP, or something to that effect. And in a world where he could get bitten by a spider one day and develop super-powers the next, he guessed that anything was possible.

A stab went through Peter’s brain as another flash came over him. In this one a young woman was floating in the air across a vast field of debris and destruction. Bombs were exploding in his ears, lasers firing, aliens teeming. Through it all he saw her long red jacket billowing behind her, eyes glowing and crimson tendrils of magic flowing from her fingertips. She radiated fierce, righteous power and Peter could feel the pain, grief, and raw anger exploding out of her, engulfing the battlefield.

_You took everything from me!_

Peter sucked in a breath as the sights and sounds of combat drifted away. His heart was still jumping with adrenaline and his head hurt. Everything was spinning as he whipped off his mask so he could better suck in deep gulps of air. The dizziness that had come over him in the last vision of Tony had returned with a vengeance and he could feel his gorge rising.

A hand on his shoulder had him jerking back on instinct.

“ … -id? Kid, c’mon. Take a breath.” Peter heard Tony’s voice like he would if he had just broken the surface of the water, going from muffled garbles to sudden clarity at max volume “Tell me what’s going on.”

Peter shrugged out of Tony’s hand and skidded back on his butt, ignoring how the gravelly rooftop scraped the flesh of his hands. “Don’t touch me!” He exclaimed.

Tony held out his hands and backed away like one would when faced with a wild, injured animal, “I’m not gonna hurt you!”

“What are you doing to me?” Peter cried, his tether loosening, “Why are you making me see these things?

Tony considered Peter with compassion and concern in his eyes, “What things? What are you seeing, Pete?”

“Voices ... People ...” Peter shook his head, his hands gripping his hair, “People I don’t know, but when I see them I feel like I do. There was a glowing lady and a battle, and you in a car joking about my aunt and a girl wearing a necklace. It doesn’t make any sense! Please … just make it stop.”

“I’m not doing it, Peter. I swear!” Tony says in earnest and Peter half believes him just by the look of hurt the accusation caused him, “I would never hurt you. That I promise.”

“Then why? Why is this happening to me?” Peter’s voiced cracked, “Am I going crazy?”

“Shit, no. Jesus. You’re not going crazy. What you’re seeing are memories of things that really happened to you, but you just can’t fully access them all right now because of this Fantasy Island here that you’ve created for yourself.”

“What?” Peter asked breathlessly, “What are you talking about? Are you saying that I’m doing this?”

“Kind of.” Tony shrugged, “But, it’s not your fault. What you are seeing right now, this place, the memories you think are real … they’re all a construct. You're not really here and neither am I. This is all a fantasy created to fit your wishes and subconscious desires.”

Peter was only more confused now and it must have shown plainly on his face since Tony quickly looked to the sky and muttered in sotto voce, “God, how do I explain this?”

Tony seemed to get an idea a second later and looked at Peter with a gleam in his eye and a slight smirk, “You know that really old movie, Alien?” he asked as if he already knew the answer.

“Uh, yeah … it’s only one of the best sci-fi movies ever.” Peter remarked, stating the obvious.

“I know, I know … you can fanboy over it later, but you remember those face-hugging things, right?”

“Yeah, the crab things that laid eggs in people.”

“Right. Those buggers.” Tony paused for dramatic effect, “I hate to break it to you, but something like that has attached itself to you out there in the real world and right now it is using you like a coppertop battery, draining you dry.”

“I got one of those things on my face?” Peter asked, aghast.

“It’s not exactly like the movie, kid. Your face is actually fine, but the rest of you … ” Tony winced as he tried to explain, “Kinda looks like you’ve attacked by a ball of snot. You’re all covered in this weird slime and goo.”

“Gross.” Disgusted, Peter frowned and tried not to dwell on that mental image.

Tony nodded in whole-hearted agreement, “Yeah, It is. Haven’t seen anything that vile since the 2016 election.”

“How’d it happen?”

“Not exactly sure about that, but not too long ago we had about, oh, I dunno, about a hundred interstellar portals from other worlds open up in upstate New York and it’s possible this creature snuck through while the rest of us were distracted. It looks like it took you by surprise while you were out on patrol a couple of nights ago. When it latched on to you, it tossed you into this uber-real dreamland to keep you from stopping it or even knowing that it's there. Though why your subconscious decided to create a world where I apparently don’t exist and you still have to wear your underoos to fight crime, I don’t know. What I do know is that our friends are helping you right now in the real world. They tried to remove it, but everytime they touch it, your vitals take a nosedive. So they figured that the only way to save you is to somehow break the connection it has to your mind.”

“And that’s why you’re here?”

“Yep.”

“And I’m just supposed to believe you? That everything I know is wrong?” Peter asked. He was starting to get a headache and what Tony was trying to convince him of sounded like a bad TV trope, “Look, despite what you say, I don’t know you … I never have. You can’t just come up to someone from outta nowhere and be like, ‘Hey, man, this is the Matrix’ without any proof to back it up.”

Tony hung his head and growled, “Jeez Louise.” He then threw up his hands, “Ok, fine. Here’s what we need to do.” He pointed at Peter’s head, “We need to get your real memories back. All of them.”

“Whose to say that the memories I have now aren’t the real ones.” Peter argued back. “What if the flashes I’m seeing are the false ones?”

“My god, kid, will you please just _listen_ to me?”

Peter blinked and the world shorted out.

_“None of this would have happened it you had just listened to me!” Peter angrily approached what looked like a flying robot. He choked on a sob, his frustration, guilt, and anger taking over his mouth. “If you even cared, you’d actually be here!” Suddenly the robot opened up, but it wasn’t a robot, it was suit and Tony exited it, his eyes dark and furious. Peter took several steps back and gulped, knowing that he had screwed up, big time._

Peter blinked again to fingers snapping in his face, “Kid? You with me? What’d you see?” Tony gazed at him with concern,

Headache now at maximum, Peter groaned and held his head, “I was really mad and I felt really guilty about something wrong I had done, but then I said that if you really cared about me that you would actually be there and then you came out of this metal suit looking like you wanted to skin me alive.” Peter looked up at Tony, searching his eyes, “Why were we so mad at each other?”

“Ah … the infamous Staten Island Ferry Incident. Not one of our proudest moments.”

“What happened?”

“You got a little in over your head trying to stop a criminal on the ferry. Turned out he had some alien weapons and during the scuffle he managed to cut the ferry clean in half. I had to come in and fix it up. Then we kind of had a little spat, you were mad at me, I was mad at you. I took your suit – water under the bridge, really.”

“You took my suit?” Peter recalled the flash he had earlier of May walking in on him trying on that really awesome suit.

“Yeah, in hindsight, that may have been a little rash, especially since I was not all that great in communicating with you at the time. But on the bright side, I gave it back. I even made you a new suit out of nanotech which was supposed to be a surprise for your 17th birthday, but uh …”

Tony seemed to drifted off into his own memories for a moment and he looked almost melancholy recalling them, “I actually had to give it to you a little earlier than expected.”

_It smells like a new car in here!_

Peter felt another stabbing pain in his head as even more memories decided to come flooding across his mind. One second he was hanging onto a flying donut ship, then next he was shaking hands with a guy with a sentient cloak, then he was fighting a giant purple guy and then the next …

_Mr. Stark, I don’t feel so good._

Dust filled his vision.

_Scenes of a life he had forgotten coursed through him at lightning speeds. He was fighting and flying on a winged horse, and then desperately clutching a large metal glove while bombs exploded around him in all directions. A glowing lady spoke to him and he gave her the glove. Then he was fighting again and suddenly there was a flash of light and the aliens all began to dissolve into dust. Peter looked around and saw a figure sitting upright against a pile of debris._

_Mr. Stark!_

_Peter ran to him and what he saw made his heart fill with grief. His mentor looked at him with glassy eyes that clung to consciousness.._

_"Hey, Mr. Stark! It’s me, it’s Peter." He gripped Tony’s hand, praying he could hear him, his voice trembling "We won, Mr. Stark. We won, sir. You did it". Peter choked on his tears, knowing that this was it. Mr. Stark was dying and he couldn’t stop it. "I’m sorry, Tony"._

_Everything after that went blissfully black._  
……

When Peter next opened his eyes, it was to a blue sky and a fuzzy face above him, haloed by the sunlight behind him. Mr. Stark was looking down on him as Peter’s head lay in his lap, his face almost ethereal in the light like an angel descending from heaven.

And maybe that’s what he was now.

After all, isn’t that what some people said happened when you died?

Because that was what Mr. Stark was … dead.

He knew because he remembered now.

He remembered everything.

And God, it hurt.

Peter didn’t realize he was crying until Mr. Stark began to wipe his tears, saying, “Hey now, none of that. You’re okay, kid.” Soothing words that felt like a balm on Peter’s aching heart, but did little to ease his confusion. Mr. Stark was there, he was laying in his lap and he could feel the vibrations of his voice and the touch of his fingers on face, but it wasn’t possible. He was dead. Peter had seen him die and could remember now the months of grief that had followed, of feeling so lost and untethered.

Was this real?

Was anything real anymore?

Perhaps this was just another one of Quentin Beck's illusions and Peter was once again too much of a dupe to know the difference.

It felt real though and he really hoped it actually was Mr. Stark looking down on him with such care and concern.. 

“How?” Was the only word Peter to manage to speak.

“It’s a long story.”

“Are you real?”

“Yes … and no.” Mr. Stark shrugged, “I guess I’m kinda … in between. Honestly, I don't even know.”

“Are you a ghost?”

“Let’s just call it ‘living impaired’.”

“Then you really are dead.” Peter said quietly.

Mr. Stark nodded, “As a doornail.” 

“Then how are you here?”

“I told you, we have people on the other side in the real world helping you. One of them is Wanda and she’s created this … I dunno … bridge for me to come here. One minute, I’m floating around in the ether, doing whatever it is that dead folks do, which really isn’t much by the way, and the next, she’s pulling my spirit or soul or whatever to her. I didn’t even know she could do that. Hell, I didn’t even really believe in an afterlife, but here I am, so I guess anything is possible.”

“So, Wanda’s like sceancing you into my head right now. Like the Ghost Whisperer?

“One: I’m not sure that’s a word and two: Jennifer Love Hewitt wishes she was as awesome as Wanda … but I suppose that’s accurate. I guess when it attacked you and sent you into dream world it gave off some weird psychic vibes or whatever, so she tracked it down and found you. She called Dr. Strange and they got you to his place where they tried to get the thing off of you, but they realized it wasn’t going to happen unless someone could get inside your head and try to talk you into waking up. Neither one of them felt that they knew you well enough to do that so, she called me on her psychic hotline so to speak.”

“That’s uh … that’s really weird. And really cool too.”

“Totally cool.” Tony agreed.

Peter looked up into Mr. Stark’s eyes, eyes he never thought he would see again. His tears had dried, but the ache still remained and there was just so much he wanted to tell him that he never got the chance to say before. Now it seemed that their time together was short so he had to get what he wanted to convey to Mr. Stark the most out now, before it was too late.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.” Peter began, his eyes welling once again.

“It’s okay, Bud.”

“No … no, it’s not.” Peter sat up, not sure if he really deserved Mr. Stark’s comfort, “I messed up. Everything since you left has gone wrong. You left me EDITH and I trusted the wrong guy.” Peter hung his head, feeling his face heat up with shame, “He used it and a lot of people got hurt and I when I tried to stop him, he got killed by one of the drones. But now everyone thinks I killed him. And everyone knows who I am and everything is ... it’s just really hard.”

Mr. Stark stayed silent, but Peter felt a hand rest on shoulder.

Peter gulped and the tears started to flow again, “I didn’t know what to do. The whole city turned against me and reporters were everywhere. The police and the government wanted to take me in and I got scared."

Hanging his head, Peter continued his confession even as his throat threatened to collapse in on itself, "And then I ran away. Like a coward I ran away and I haven’t been home in weeks. My aunt and my friends don’t know where I am and MJ and Ned probably hate me for not even saying good-bye. I just wanted to protect them from it all, but I've probably just made things worse for them.”

“And that’s not all,” Peter wiped angrily at his eyes, “I quit being Spider-Man. You thought that Wanda found me on patrol, but that can’t be true. The last thing I remember is digging in a dumpster trying to find something to eat. That’s why I was in that alley. I haven’t helped anyone in ages. I can’t even help myself!”

Tony rubbed Peter’s shoulder, “Oh, Pete.”

Peter shrugged out of his former mentor’s hold. He really didn’t want any sympathy, he just wanted to explain something important, “That’s why I think I made up this world. It’s so much easier. You can’t miss people you never knew and you can’t hurt friends you never had.” In a quieter voice he added, “And I don’t think I want to go back.”

Tony shook his head vehemently, “Peter, no –”

“Why not?” Peter nearly whined, “I could just stay here with you for however long I have left. And then when I’m gone, it’ll be okay because I’m not much use to anyone out there in the real world anyway.”

Mr. Stark just kept shaking his head and then he stood up and started pacing angrily, leaving Peter sitting on the floor of the roof, watching him grow more and more agitated.

“No … no, no, no.” Tony was livid, “Do not give me this bullshit!” he shouted and spun on Peter. The younger man was almost bowled over by his fury, “You’re better than this, kid! Would you really be so selfish to leave your Aunt and friends to mourn you? I left you EDITH for a reason, granted, you weren’t supposed to have to deal with it until you were at least of voting age, but I gave it to you because you never give up. You always get back up. And yeah, life has knocked you down and thrown you a rotten deal, and you made some mistakes, but so have I, God knows I have I made some doozies, one of those being to trust Nick fucking Fury to make sure you didn’t get burdened with EDITH until you were ready. But you don’t get the right to quit yet just because life is hard right now because believe it or not, the world needs you. Not just Spider-Man, but you, Peter Parker. You can be so much better than I ever was and if you throw that away, I will kick you ass, dead or not! You are not done!”

Tony bent and furiously pulled Peter to his feet, shaking him, “Do you hear me? You are not done!”

Silence broke out between them except for the heavy heaving of their breaths. Tony held Peter out at arm’s length and they could only stare at each other, both of them in tears.

Tony spoke, his voice softened, “You gotta go back.”

“I don’t want to say good-bye again.” Peter quietly returned.

“I know. I don’t either, but this is the way it’s gotta be.” Tony tried to force a smile, “Besides, if you stay here much longer you’ll worry me to death and I don’t think there’s an afterlife to the afterlife.”

Peter almost chuckled but sobbed instead. All of the fear and shame and loneliness and heartache and grief was too much for him to hold back. And then suddenly he was enveloped in two warm arms, his face mashed against a quickly dampening chest. He felt a hand on his head and a voice telling him to get it all out.

So he did.

He cried and released everything, holding tight to the man he knew he would soon have to let go. And when he was done, spent and exhausted, Tony gently lowered him to the floor and they sat side-by-side, quietly watching the sun begin its slow descent on the horizon.

“I don’t know how to fix things.” Peter spoke after some time.

Tony nudged Peter’s shoulder with his own, “Well, for starters, you don’t do it alone. You have friends and they can help you.”

“What if they hate me for running away? What if they think I really killed Beck?”

“Trust me, kid.” Tony assured him, “Your friends will be over the moon to see you and anyone who’s known you for more than two minutes knows that you’d never kill anyone on purpose.”

Peter drew in a deep breath and blew it out fully, “Okay … I think I can I do it.”

Tony turned to Peter with a look of pride and gave Peter a side hug, “I know you can, kiddo.”

“So, how does this work? How do I get out of here?”

Tony rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, about that.”

“What?”

“I don’t really know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Well, I have a theory.”

“A theory?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry, my theories are always right.” Tony delivered with a wink. “You ever have one of those dreams where you fall but then just before you go splat, you suddenly wake up?”

Peter nodded, unsure of where this was going, “Sure, everyone gets those.”

“Well, I think we need to make you fall here and back in the real world, it’ll wake you up. Once your body is awake, the creature won’t be able to hold onto you.”

“So I gotta fall to wake up.”

“Right.”

“Okay.” Peter stood and blew out a breath. He then began walking over to the edge of the roof and peered down. Even though he knew that he was stuck in a world that wasn’t real, the drop would hurt a lot if this theory of Tony’s didn’t pan out.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you think you’re doing?” Tony asked, running up to Peter and grabbing his arm, dragging him from the edge, a panic in his voice.

“I gotta jump, don’t I?”

“Christ! I said fall, not leap off a ten story building. I’d really rather you not test the notion that dying in you dreams makes you die in real life.”

Peter looked at Tony with wide-eyed confusion. “But then how do I –”

“Trust falls, Kid.” Tony explained, “You know … classic team building exercise and bane of every corporate retreat attendee ever.”

“Oh.” Peter nodded, getting it, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, like when people fall backward and have to trust that someone will be behind them to catch them.”

Tony snapped his fingers and pointed at Peter, “Exactly. Now, doesn’t that sound better than flinging yourself off of rooftops?”

“You think it’ll work?”

“Can’t hurt to try. You wanna give it a go?”

“Okay. I guess so.”

Peter turned his back on Tony, “Okay, now all you got to do is lean back and let yourself fall. I’ll be right behind you, Tony instructed.  
Peter steadied himself and closed his eyes. This was it. If this worked he’d wake up in the real world. He wasn’t sure he was ready and he needed to do one last thing.

“Wait.” Peter said then turned around and dove into Tony’s arms. He relished in the warmth and the feel of Tony rubbing circles into his back. “Thank you, Mr. Stark. I gonna miss you so much --”

“I know.” Tony too sounded a little choked up, “But who knows. Maybe this isn’t good-bye for good. Maybe we can convince Wanda to open up the psychic skype connection for us again sometime. And remember, I won’t be far. The ether was pretty boring, so I think I’ll stick around and keep an eye on you. … you know, like your guardian angel or something. Just don’t call me Clarence.”

Peter chuckled, not getting the Clarence reference, but savoring the final touch he would have with his former mentor.

Eventually, Tony pulled away and held Peter out at arm’s length. With a smile of pride and a nod he said, “You’re gonna be okay, Kiddo.”

“I’ll try.” Peter replied.

“You better.” Tony took Peter’s shoulders and turned him around, “Now, let’s get you home, shall we?”

Peter breathed in deep and squared his shoulders. Tony was right behind him and somehow he knew now that everything would be okay. He’d find a way to solve his problems and he’d fix things with his aunt and friends. He’d find a way to be Spider-Man again, because Tony was right, people needed him and it was his responsibility to be there for them.

“Go ahead and let go, Pete.” Tony confidently told him, “I’m gonna catch ya.”

“I know.” Peter said quietly.

Rocking on his heels, Peter closed his eyes and let himself fall backwards.

……

**Epilogue**

Tony sat on the rooftop of the bodega just watching the traffic pass down below and waiting for his favorite kid superhero to make his daily appearance.

He wouldn’t say he was necessarily used to being a ghost just yet, but everyday was a bit better.

It was really weird at first. He had been pulled from blissful nothingness by the sound of Wanda’s voice calling for him, asking for his help because Peter was in trouble. He could have stayed in that soft place, where he merely existed as a wisp of himself, content to slumber dreamlessly, but she had only to mention Peter and he had been awoken. He had followed her voice like a homing beacon and the next thing he knew he was in Strange’s Sanctum.

Strange, it seemed was helping Wanda to make the connection to what he called the ‘astral plane’ and through the use of some spells and magical doodads he had at his disposal, they had managed to connect to him in the great beyond, but it was Wanda that spoke to him, that conveyed the urgency of their mission and how he could help. It was to her voice that he truly came back and to her that he would be forever grateful for his sort-of resurrection.

Tony didn’t need any convincing to come back when he found out that Peter needed to help, especially when he saw the kid laying on a bed in the sanctum, his body covered by what Tony could only describe as a rather disgusting snot monster. The thing pulsed with light and hummed sickeningly as it sucked the very life out of the kid Tony had fought so hard to bring back.

There was no way in hell he was going to let that thing hurt his kid.

So, he allowed Strange and Wanda to project Tony into Peter’s head. He would be lying if he said he knew how they did that, but he was fine with letting the psychic and the wizard figure out the hocus pocus end of the plan. He would take care of talking some sense into Peter.

It hadn’t been easy; not convincing Peter that the world he in was fake and especially not the witnessing the kid get his memories back and having to deal with the emotional toll Tony’s own death, his encounter with Quentin Beck, and his flight from home had dealt the boy. But the kid had come through in the end and though watching the kid as he fell backward and then disappeared before Tony could catch him had been hard, he knew coming back from the ether, even if it was just for this short span of time had been worth it.

Peter would be okay.

Tony almost expected to disappear right along with Peter and fade off into the mists again, but the next thing he knew, he was in Strange’s place again. Peter was sitting bolt upright, ripping the snot creature off of his body with his super strength and tossing it into a portal Strange had created on the fly. Tony didn’t know if the thing was flung back to its own planet or if Strange had just teleported it into space, but he really didn’t much care. The thing was gone and no longer hurting Peter and that’s all that mattered.

Peter in the mean time had collapsed back onto the bed, breathing hard and freaking out a little, but Wanda was there to calm him. All the while, Tony was in the background, unseen by anyone in the room.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter had called out.

Tony answered him with, “I’m here, kid.”

“He can’t hear you, Stark.” A voice spoke as a presence suddenly made itself known next to him. Tony turned to see Strange by his side, his body faint and nearly transparent.

“You here to send me back?” Tony asked, suddenly not okay with becoming one with the universe again. There was still so much the kid needed to deal with and even if he could do nothing to help, he just didn't want to go.

“Only if you wish it. You may stay as long as you want in the astral plane. Unlike me, you have no physical body to tether you to this world. But I warn you, if you stay, it won’t be easy. You won’t be able to interact with the world or speak with anyone. Being able to observe but do nothing for their loved ones can become maddening for many spirits caught in this realm. Some even go insane.”

“I’ll take my chances. Besides,” Tony raised his hands with a shrug, “I’m Tony Stark, I can make anything work.”

Strange smiled enigmatically, “That may actually be more true than you realize. Peter has some weak psychic abilities and I can sense a strong bond between you and the boy especially now since your encounter with his mind. He may actually be able to sense your presence or maybe even more. And who knows, perhaps you can actually help him, influence him to make the right decisions. But that, of course, is pure speculation on my part.”

“That’s good enough for me.” Tony grinned confidently.

“But your family, Stark … Pepper and Morgan.” Tony’s smile faltered hearing their names and he swallowed hard, “They won’t feel you or know you’re there. Do you really think you could handle that?”

“If it means I can see my little girl grow up,” Tony suddenly felt a lump in his non-existent throat, “then I don’t think I can ask for more.”

Strange nodded, giving Tony a look of sympathy, “Should you ever change your mind. You know where to find me.” And with that, the wizard disappeared and Tony was alone in this new existence of his.

He looked over at the boy laying on the bed and walked over. Peter was crying silent tears and Wanda tried to comfort him, but it wasn’t until Tony placed his ethereal hand on Peter’s forehead that the kid began to calm down and after a few minutes had fallen into an exhausted sleep.

Tony stayed, unable to do much more than what he was already, but wanting to be there nonetheless.

…..

All of that had been a couple of months ago.

Peter had come a long way since then and Tony couldn’t be any prouder of the kid.

At first, Tony had been worried that the boy would try to get through all his problems on his own, but he had been pleased when Peter accepted Dr. Strange’s offer to let him stay at his place until he could contact his aunt and find more permanent solutions to the fall-out Beck's outing of his identity had wrought.

In that time, Peter milled about Strange’s sanctum as his guest, barely eating and sleeping, almost as much of a ghost as Tony. Peter seemed to be mourning him all over again and no matter how many times he waved his hands in the kid’s face or shouted at him to eat something, he had been unsuccessful in making the kid feel that he was there for him. The engineer in Tony was frustrated that there wasn't some screw that could be tightened or part replaced that would fix the boy and he was at a loss as to how he could get through to Peter.

That is, until one night after Tony returned from a quick trip to the lake house to watch Pepper put Morgan to bed (Another cool trick Tony had learned was instantly travelling form one place to another just by thinking about it) and assure himself that all was well with his girls. He found Peter on the roof of the sanctum, sitting with his feet dangling off the ledge. His shoulders were slumped and his phone was in his hands.

Tony was a little nervous to see Peter in such a precarious position on the roof, but he reminded himself that the kid was crazy sticky and could probably balance himself on the tip of his pinky and not fall over. Yet still, a part of him lurched at the sight and he hurried over.

Seeing that Peter was just staring at his phone with the screen off, Tony got the feeling he knew what Peter wanted to do, but was building up the courage to make it happen.

Tony sat beside Peter with a sigh and placed his ghostly hand on the kid’s shoulder, even though he was sure boy would never know he was there. His hand more or less just passed through the kid as he said, “The phone won’t call your aunt if you just stare at it, kid. That’s not how they work.”

Suddenly Peter flinched, grabbed his shoulder where Tony had touched him and looked around like he’d been electrified.

“Whoa.” Peter and Tony said at the same time as Tony raised his hands in surprise.

“What the hell?” Peter asked the air. “Someone there?”

“Did you just hear me kid?” Tony asked, equally shocked.

Peter looked around, a freaked out expression on his ashen face, trying to find the source of the voice he had just heard.

“I’m right here, kid” Tony said, trying to get his attention again, waving a hand in his face. Somehow he had made a connection, but now, Peter was just looking around confused and didn’t seem to hear him again.

What had he done differently?

Touched his shoulder and spoke at the same time, Tony instantly realized.

He had tried touching Peter before, but it only seemed to affect the kid when he was asleep or having a nightmare and even then, Tony wasn’t even sure if it was really hid touch that calmed Peter down or he was just imagining that he was making any kind of a difference. He had also talked non-stop to Peter, sometimes just to hear the sound of his own voice, but not while trying to touch him at the same time. Maybe that was what made the difference this time.

Tony tried again, this time putting his hand on Peter’s, “I’m right here.”

Peter nearly jumped off the roof in shock.

Later, after they had both calmed down enough for Tony to convince Peter that he was not going crazy and that he was indeed talking to him, they talked and talked. Tony was over the moon to finally, finally be heard and Peter was so happy that his mentor was still there that he could barely contain himself. It was well past midnight when Peter started to fall asleep in the middle of his sentences and Tony had to shoo the kid off to bed.

Since then, it was agreed that they would meet everyday on the roof of this bodega where Tony now sat enjoying the mid-afternoon sun since it was almost smack dab in the middle of Peter’s patrol area. Since that night that they first learned they could communicate, Tony had convinced the kid to contact his aunt and friends to make amends, which he did, leading him to going home to May and coming in from the cold.

During that time, Peter and Tony learned that Happy had been working almost non-stop to clear the record on Spider-Man. It hadn’t been hard for him to convince Pepper to utilize her pull with the government to have Spider-Man fully pardoned after it was proved that the video of Quentin Beck’s final moments had been seriously altered and she even took the extra step of holding a press conference to explain how Peter Parker was not in fact Spider-Man, but just an unfortunate intern that had drawn the jealousy of Beck because he had been a favorite of Tony’s.

Tony had watched the presser unnoticed from the back of the room and had marveled at his wife’s poise and confidence as she also took down J. Jonah Jameson for releasing the name of a minor without doing proper fact-checking and research, causing him to lose so many sponsors that his show was ultimately cancelled only a week later. That was his Pepper – a woman that would always awe and terrify him in the best ways possible. He had whooped and hollered, clapping the loudest of anyone there. No one heard him, of course, but it didn’t matter. He was a man that would forever be in love. While it hurt to not be able to hold his wife, seeing her in action was the next best thing.

So now, Spider-Man was back in action, saving people’s cats from trees, rescuing wandering toddlers, and stopping the occasional mugging.

Peter had gone back to school with his friends too and was now finishing his junior year. He was still tight with Ned, who had forgiven him automatically for running away, but things had cooled a bit with his budding romance with MJ. She had been royally pissed when he had gone MIA without consulting her and she had given him more than a piece of her mind. They were still friends of course and Peter knew that she loved him, but he wasn’t sure how to make things right with her. Tony had advised Peter to do what he always did when Pepper was mad at him: grovel.

And give gifts … lots and lots of expensive ones.

Tony took a needless breath, he was a ghost after all and didn’t need it, but it felt good anyway.

He was thankful for this; for being able to see things get put to right with Peter.

And he was grateful to be able to check in on his family. Even if he couldn’t hold his daughter or talk to her, he knew she was safe and growing up fiercely loved. He’d at the very least would be able to watch over her and perhaps in time, he and Peter would find a way for Tony to talk with her and Pepper too. But that was something that they were still discussing and strategizing. It wouldn't be easy for Peter to come right out and say that he was talking to Tony's spirit all this time and the chances were pretty good that no one would believe him. So for now, their connection was a secret Peter kept until they could find a good way to break the news without causing too much confusion or hurt feelings.

In the distance, Tony spied a familiar figure swinging between the buildings, making his way over to his perch. “That’s my cue," he said to himself as he stood.

A few moments later, a web thwipped past his ear and struck the water tank sitting on the rooftop behind him. In the next second, Peter came barreling towards him, flipping in mid air for good measure before he landed perfectly without any hint of effort.

_Show off_, Tony thought.

Peter was dressed in his black and red suit, the one that he had made himself and Tony felt another rush of pride for the kid. He had learned how to use Tony’s tech to his best advantage and he had done a great job with it.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter called out. It was always up to Tony to initiate contact since Peter couldn’t see him and could only hear him when they touched, or at least approximated a touch since what he was doing couldn’t really be considered touching when half of his hand actually passed into the kid, but whatever. It worked and Tony wasn’t one to harp on semantics.

Tony reached out and put his hand through Peter’s shoulder, saying “Hey, kiddo. I’m here.”

The kid turned and whipped off his mask, smiling and looking a little relieved to hear him as if Tony might not be there, having better things to do than be with the one person who could actually speak to him. “Oh hey, Mr. Stark. Guess what?” Peter asked excitedly, practically vibrating with energy.

“I’m thinking I’m not gonna get a chance to guess—”

“MJ said yes!” Peter blurted before Tony could finish. “She’s going to prom with me!”

Tony chuckled, “You young stud, you. That’s great! So my advice worked?”

Peter rubbed the back of his head, “Kinda … I mean, I think she liked the flowers even though I didn’t know if they were sustainably grown. But I don’t think she was crazy about the giant teddy bear. She said she didn’t have a place to put it, but I think she got the sentiment.”

“Huh.” Tony mused, “The giant stuffed animal didn’t work? Always worked like a charm for me.”

“Yeah, well, it might have cost me two months of allowance, but she gave it to her little sister and that seemed to make her happy, so it was worth it. Besides, I think it was really the letter I wrote her that won her over.”

“Laid it on thick, did ya?”

“Oh yeah. I had a lot to apologize for, but she’s coming around and just her saying yes to going with me to the dance is a good start.”

Tony nodded and smiled even though Peter couldn’t see him, “I’m happy you’re happy, Pete.”

“Me too. Thanks again for listening to me and helping, Mr. Stark. Aunt May is great, but there are some things that are a little weird talking to her about.”

“Yeah, I can see how talking to her about sex might be a little awkward.”

Peter visibly reddened, “Oh my God, we’re not there yet.”

Tony grinned and couldn’t help teasing his young charge, “Oh I know, but just make sure you’re always prepared just in case and wrap that –”

“Oh jeez, look at the time.” Peter interjected, looking at his watchless wrist, before donning his mask again “Got lots of crime to stop and people to save.”

“Of course you do.” Tony agreed with a playful chortle.

“Can I come back after patrol? I want to talk to you about calibrating the sensors in the suit’s heat detectors, they seemed a little wonky last time I used them.”

“No problem.” Tony agreed, pointing at Peter sternly even though the boy couldn't see him, "But you better be here by 8 o’clock sharp or I’m coming after ya. It's a school night, ya know.” he added, knowing how easy it was for the kid to lose track of time while patrolling.

“Got it!” Peter said hastily as he shot out a web and flung himself towards the nearest building with a whoop of thrilled pleasure that went straight to Tony’s heart and warmed him from the inside out.

“I’ll be here for ya, kid.” He quietly told the young man’s disappearing back with a broad smile, “Always.”

**The end**


End file.
